


A Love For The Ages

by egglorru



Category: The Tarot Sequence - K.D. Edwards
Genre: Bath Sex, Choking, Collars, M/M, Magical touches, Mostly Smut, will add tags as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23209972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egglorru/pseuds/egglorru
Summary: A collection of MyTower drabbles, prompts, and ficlets. Will be pretty kinky and hella smutty.
Relationships: Mayan Saint Joshua/Anton Saint Joshua, Mayan/Lord Tower
Comments: 19
Kudos: 14





	1. In the aftermath of the Westlands

_I am strong until I do not have to be, and not a moment less._

Lord Tower lived his life by this motto; had chiseled his willpower and his magic into something a diamond would have difficulty contending with, because there was no room for weakness in the Dagger Throne. Every moment spent as The Tower was controlled, sharp, and sure.

By contrast, every moment as Anton was soft, happy, a relief, and more enjoyable for the brevity of its allowance in his life. Mono no aware, as the Japanese so aptly said.

It felt like it had taken a lifetime before he’d finally, finally, _finally_ felt the imminent decorporealization of Rurik pushing like a throbbing headache at his willpower, and released four of his few remaining sigils to break past that temporary destruction. Magic had seared through him, and the backlash felt like a sucking tingle as Rurik imploded from the very threads of existence. Had it taken so much of the Arcana Majeure to kill Yacam? He thought as he’d _finally_ he let himself relax, and the sudden bonelessness in the aftermath of so much taut concentration was such a relief that it almost felt like alarm.

Even without a bond to know where Mayan was in relation to his proximity, he wouldn’t have to look behind himself as his legs had given out. Centuries had layered the mother-of-pearl trust between them into an enormous, precious gem, and he was smiling before his back even made contact with Mayan’s solid chest, before strong arms wrapped around him and made him feel like there was no world outside of them.

Of course, there had been a world to contend with outside of them, but Mayan knew exactly the way to murmur “later” into his ear to make it not a disappointment but a strengthening promise. It powered him through the collapse of the church, the excavation of their party, the delegation of survivors into the further instruction of Lady Justice, and the return home. The questioning of Lord Magician and Lord Strength as to their possible involvement in Ashton’s actions could wait.

By the time he reached his bedroom, he wasn’t even sure if it was adrenaline or a bolstering spell that was on the last dregs of keeping him upright. It didn’t matter; all that mattered was Mayan’s arms, this time sweeping across his back and under his knees to carry him to the bed.

“Undress,” was kissed into his temple, and the water in the bathroom began running a moment after Mayan left his side. He didn’t even bother to sit up, just tugged and kicked off his shirt, boots, trousers, underwear. Even that was an effort, and he closed his eyes for just a few seconds…

He was in Mayan’s arms, being gently shaken into wakefulness before Mayan sunk to his knees in a full, steaming, rose-scented tub and set him down before sitting behind him and pulling him back into those wonderful strong arms once again. Every bit of Lord Tower fell away into the gloriously hot water and Anton groaned quietly as his tension and aches followed suit. “Let’s never do that again,” he muttered. “Next time impending disaster comes knocking, let the kids deal with it.”

The vibration of Mayan’s laughter against his back made his heart feel even warmer than the bath. “Sure,” Mayan agreed easily, even if they both knew they’d never really sit back and let the world turn without them. Anton tipped his head back against Mayan’s shoulder and lolled it to one side, an open invitation, and Mayan pressed a long, languid kiss to the base of his neck.

“We’re going to get older again,” Anton whispered, an apology phrased as fact.

Mayan’s nose and lips skimmed up the column of his neck before pressing into a kiss against the hair at his temple. “I’ve always liked you just a bit older than we’ve rejuvenated to,” Mayan responded simply. “You look so distinguished with a touch of grey at your temples.”

“And you never seem to age at all, you bastard,” Anton groused. “My father picked you for good genetics, and damn if he didn’t pick well.”

“Mmm,” Mayan smiled into his neck again. “What were my genetic requirements again? Tall…”

“Bastard,” Anton repeated in agreement, pressing his head back against Mayan’s collarbone.

“Strong…” He squeezed his arms around Anton, who moaned.

“I love that one, especially when you fuck me against the wall.”

“Or carry you like a princess,” Mayan teased. “Intelligence, that was one.”

“Yes.” Anton tipped his head up, and Mayan kissed him slowly.

“Mmm,” Mayan broke their kiss with a noise of recollection, “yes, and a big dick, that was in there too.”

“Have you one? Hmm, you’ll have to remind me,” Anton murmured as his lips slid into an easy, teasing grin. He pressed his ass back against Mayan’s hips and frowned. “I know he sized up your ancestors, but sadly, these things do skip generations.”

Mayan’s hand shot up to his throat and squeezed, just enough to make breathing into a bit of an effort. “Careful, miw-sher, or you might find out how big it feels when it goes in dry. I didn’t think you wanted any more aches on top of your fight today, but—”

“Is it really dry if we’re in the bath?” Anton teased, even as he reached for the silicone-based lube they kept in the bathroom, set within easy reach near their soaps. Mayan didn’t even dignify that one with an answer, merely letting go of Anton’s neck and holding his palm out for a squirt as he bent his head to bite at Anton’s shoulder. Anton groaned and nearly missed his hand with the lube.

“Not too tired for this, love?”

“No!” Anton reassured, quickly enough to make Mayan smile in amusement. “Just…keep it slow, okay?”

Mayan kissed his neck again. “You know I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, and slid his other hand down Anton’s stomach, agonizingly close to his hardening cock, and then down his thigh. They’d done this so often that Anton didn’t even need a verbal instruction; he lifted both of his legs to set his feet flat against the bottom of the tub and give Mayan room to slip slick fingers into his hole. He groaned and wrapped his arm behind Mayan’s neck, angling for a kiss that was quickly given to him. He whined into it when Mayan’s fingers pressed in deeper and started to stretch him, and Mayan pulled away for a moment to give him permission to touch himself.

“Ah…” Anton sighed as he stroked a slow, firm grip up his cock. “My, hurry up.”

“No.” Mayan punctuated the refusal with another kiss. “You _just_ told me to keep it slow.”

“I meant – mmm – I _meant_ fuck me slow, not take forever to get in me.”

Mayan hummed thoughtfully even as he stretched his fingers a bit wider and fit a third one in with them. He kissed Anton’s temple again. “Maybe I’m waiting for that sexy grey to come in before I deem you hot enough to fuck.”

“I will freeze your dick off,” Anton growled. “I will go to the sanctum and charge a sigil and – “ His words cut off abruptly as Mayan squeezed his throat again, much tighter this time.

“Can’t have that, can we,” Mayan murmured, and wrapped his other arm around Anton’s waist to bodily lift him. “Line up my cock then, princess. I’m not letting go until I’m all the way in you.”

Anton’s eyes widened and he grasped behind himself for his Companion’s very-not-average-sized cock. He felt a whine bubble up his throat against Mayan’s tight fingers as he slid down, and when Mayan suddenly let go, it came out much louder than he thought it would. He shuddered and gasped for air as he relaxed around the intrusion.

“Sometimes it feels like sitting on a fence post,” he admitted with a breathless laugh, and felt Mayan’s pleased smirk simmer through their bond. He didn’t have to tell Mayan when to move; his Companion always felt when he was ready. He moaned when Mayan rolled his hips slowly, a long graceful slide nearly all the way out of him, and then a near-endless slow thrust to sheathe all the way back in. Gods, he felt every millimeter of that.

Mayan gently fucked into him, and it didn’t even feel like sex. For long moments, it was just…intimacy. Warmth and fullness and relaxation. A physical sensation that said, “we both survived, and here we are once more, together, and thus we are content.”

Anton moaned softly and tipped his head up to kiss under Mayan’s jaw. “I’m going to fall asleep,” he murmured into the day’s stubble against his lips. Not a taunt to goad Mayan into retaliation, just a fact. “Fuck me, My, please? Touch me too.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” Mayan whispered again, and he felt near to tears when the naked truth of that resonated through their bond. Mayan, strong, perfect Mayan, held him up again with that arm like an iron vice around his waist, and stroked his cock just the way he liked it while rocking up into him hard enough to make the water splash up his chest but still slow enough to be lovemaking.

Sometimes, it didn’t even take much time or effort to get them there. Sometimes he didn’t need a drawn-out build-up or a hard pounding, just the _feelings_ swelling their bond open and the touch of Mayan’s mouth on any part of him, but especially his lips. He moaned into the kiss and felt Mayan right there with him, even closer than him, which was rare. Mayan’s genetics included _stamina_. Still, he was clinging to this side of his orgasm when Mayan pressed in deep and stuttered his hips against Anton’s ass with a low groan that Anton swallowed into their kiss. When he pulled away from Mayan’s lips, he squeezed his hole, just to make Mayan groan again.

“Choke me,” Anton whispered, pleaded, trusted. Mayan’s stroking fingers, paused for his orgasm, started up again, and his arm lifted from Anton’s waist, hand sliding slowly up his chest to his neck to squeeze the breath from him again. Anton clutched Mayan’s wrist with both hands and pulled it tighter against his own throat, savoring the love and need flowing through their bond and the way the feelings twined themselves into the rapid push of his own orgasm. Mayan knew just how to ignore his body’s _want_ of air and let go the moment he _needed_ air, and he couldn’t blink the spots away from his vision before Mayan’s fingers twisted around the head of his cock just right and he came hard enough that the spots nearly gathered up together and made him black out.

He gasped hard and heavily in the aftermath, grateful as hell for the wall-mounted sigil that pulled heat and humidity from the air, or he probably would have blacked out for real. Mayan rubbed slowly at his chest in encouragement and kissed at his neck until he had caught his breath enough to turn and quest out kisses on the mouth. All of his energy seemed to be draining out of him at about the same rate as the stiffness fading from his sated cock, and he contemplated just…forgoing the actual washing of today’s sweat and exertion until the morning.

Bond as wide open as it was, Mayan simply read the idea and dismissed it. He held Anton against his chest with one hand and reached a long arm for the shampoo on a little shelf embedded in the wall, and began to wash Anton’s hair.

Anton let a soft whimper escape his lips as Mayan massaged his scalp. “I’m gonna…sleep,” he warned for real, and Mayan just hummed agreeably, tipping Anton's head back and reaching for a little pitcher to rinse his hair.

Anton drifted. He didn’t remember conditioner, but he jolted with a quiet moan when Mayan’s soapy finger slipped into his ass to clean out the cum and the waterproof lube. Mayan must have washed his own hair during another sleepy lull, because his long hair was wrapped up in a fluffy towel when he had Anton upright out of the tub to dry them both off.

Then there was a bed, and soft, cool sheets, and a warm, familiar body curving into his back, and Anton remembered no more. The day was done, and he and Mayan were both here, together, and that was peace. That was happiness. Mayan’s heartbeat against his back was a slow, hypnotizing drumbeat, and it called him into blissful oblivion.


	2. The spoils of the Lovers' raid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Easifa - Arabic, “storm”  
> Bariq - Arabic, “lightning”
> 
> Am I going to change their pet names every chapter? ,,,,,,,probably

"Show me the spoils of war, easifa," Mayan commanded, striding into the room. When he saw that some computer techs were in the room as well, he dipped his head in a respectful nod to Lord Tower and added, "Is it as instructive as you hoped, sir?"

Lord Tower nodded at the techs to continue and then jerked his head for Mayan to follow him. "It is. I believe you'll be able to put it to good use once it's integrated into your surveillance system."

"I see." They passed other personnel in the hallway to the elevator. "And the other acquisitions? Any luck?"

Lord Tower had committed resources to overriding the controls of the collars on the Lovers' slaves. The slaves themselves would be submitted for medical and psychiatric evaluation before being taken into roles in other courts or sent back to their human homes, as the Arcanum saw fit. In exchange, Lord Tower had staked claim on the collars themselves, to be disposed of, studied, or repurposed, depending on their nature.

"Extraordinary luck, bariq," he replied with a broad smile as the elevator rocketed upward. "They're not warded. They're sigil sets, as rumored. I've emptied all of the lingering spells, and prepared one set for us to use today."

They stepped off the elevator into Anton's sanctum. "Without me?" Mayan teased. Anton always stored stronger spells when they danced together.

Anton colored a little. "I couldn't wait, My. I love the little ways you mark me as owned, don't get me wrong," - they smiled at each other as fond memories of cock rings, chastity cages, and love bites passed between them - "but a real sigil collar? With a control? Elena had the monopoly on all the ones potentially in existence for so long, I almost didn't dare hope we'd ever share this."

He opened the door of a beautiful display cabinet against the wall of windows, full of little pillows with sigils sparkling in the morning light. An entire shelf was now taken up by collars paired with bracelets. Their eyes roved over the collection: some were actual dog collars, some simple metal bands, and others gorgeous bejeweled torques.

Anton reached for the one he'd been most drawn to that morning, a beautiful gold filigree set that was inlaid with brown fire agates, which reminded him of the way Mayan's deep brown eyes flared and glittered when he was angry or passionate. As he fingered it, awash with anticipation, he smiled and leaned back, knowing Mayan would be right behind him. A strong arm wrapped around him, and the other reached in to pick up the collar.

“Easifa…” Mayan breathed into his ear, admiring the craftsmanship.

" _Collar me, bariq_ ," he whispered; shuddered. His voice quaked with Aspect, a distant rumble of thunder promising a rain to quench all thirst, to quench years of longing for this. And Mayan was his lightning, the weapon of a storm; dazzling, sharp, deadly, beautiful.

Mayan did not reply; he loosened Anton's keikogi, pushed the clothes to the floor so that his Scion stood naked before him, and opened the clasp of the collar to settle its heavy, solid gold weight around Anton's throat. He kissed the back of Anton's neck right under the latch before fastening the collar closed. It had no lock.

"Submit to me, easifa," Mayan rumbled against his back, and wrapped one arm back around Anton's waist, holding out the other wrist in front of his Scion.

Anton picked up the bracelet, kissed the inside of Mayan's wrist, and fastened it in place. "I am yours," he whispered, and pressed his lips to the metal, releasing the control spell with a kiss and concentration. The metal around his neck warmed, and three small buttons popped out of recessions in the bracelet.

Anton had tested them earlier himself - there was one to squeeze the collar around his neck (a warning to a "dog" but personally a treat that he was looking forward to), one to unlock the collar, and one to release the spell stored within it. When he'd purged the collection of stored magic, they'd all felt and smelled _sharp_ as they released, likely torture spells. What he'd filled it with instead…well.

"Test it? The left button." He asked Mayan, holding the braceleted hand to his own chest, palm over his heart. It was pounding; gods, he was excited. The whole point of the buttons was that they weren't supposed to rely on the user's level of magical ability, and he prayed that included no ability at all.

He held his breath, and against his unmoving back, he felt Mayan do the same. Mayan let go of his waist, hovered a finger over the leftmost button, and pressed gently. Anton gasped just a little as the collar tightened a bit, and laughed breathily around the strain. "Mayan!" He tipped his head back to grin at his tall Companion.

Mayan let go, and the pressure stopped. Anton made a little noise of disappointment. Mayan hushed him and pressed again, more firmly. "Does this make it tighter than before?" Anton considered, and shook his head. Mayan double tapped the button and held. "Now?" Anton moaned as much as the tight squeeze would allow, and Mayan bent with a smile to kiss him before releasing the button. "Go back to your office - leave the clothes. I want you vulnerable. Go get some work done, easifa. I'll use the spell when I'm ready. It's the one we agreed on?"

"Yes," Anton assured him with a smile. "I can't wait."

* * *

Three hours later, Anton was half convinced that Mayan had simply gotten too busy with his own work to step away and play with him.

Anton sighed, not uncomfortable in his own nudity, but feeling that it was being wasted. He accepted a phone call and listened to a report from a planted agent in Strength's court.

He opened his mouth to reply, and - a sudden light squeeze around his throat.

He must have let out some sound, because his agent pleaded his pardon in not catching what he’d “said”. He cleared his throat against the pressure, glared at the security camera in the corner of his office, and said, “It was nothing. Continue.”

The pressure released, tightened, released. Acknowledging him. And then, he felt a soft sizzling sensation from head to foot, accompanied by a faint weight, as if a second skin was settling over him, or perhaps as if he were settling into another one. It was disorienting, but stabilized in a moment.

_The spell._

A body-sync, so that he and his Companion felt what each other touched.

A warm, ghostly hand stroked up his thigh, and he only had to close his eyes to imagine Mayan touching himself, sending the feelings along to Anton. The stroke ended just to the right of his cock, fingers tucked comfortably into the seam of his inner thigh and pelvis, and he bit his lip. He was only on the phone, but he was now _very_ aware of his nudity, and the pretense at vulnerability, at public indecency, made him break out in goosebumps.

His agent was nattering something about a potential spy for Death’s court in the same office - interesting - the agent didn’t think he himself had aroused suspicion in turn - good - Mayan’s hand ghosted over his cock, and he wasn’t sure the last time he’d gotten hard so quickly.

This time he didn’t make a noise, he was sure. He was very, very careful to make sure.

 _Ha_ , he thought, and before he could even open his mouth to make a conversational tone into the phone to indicate his attention, he found himself needing to make it around that gentle pressure again. It sounded just the faintest bit strangled, but his agent didn’t seem to notice.

He glared at the camera again, realizing that Mayan must be tapping his phone too, to make the conversation difficult for him. The pressure tightened just for a second and was gone, and teasing satisfaction flickered through their bond. He lifted the hand not at his ear, intending to stroke his own cock in the way Mayan liked, and - 

A soft buzz against his ear. He pulled the phone away to glance at the incoming text - _You will not touch yourself._

It was as though the moment Mayan’s tone, text or vocal, swapped their roles, his entire body relaxed a little. His free hand dropped back to his armrest. It would have been nice to tease Mayan back, competing to see who got the other over the edge first, but that wasn’t the game his Companion had selected, and Mayan was in charge.

Mayan owned him.

He shivered in delight at the very thought and ordered his agent to check in again soon, in an appropriately pleased tone for a job well done, and hung up. He sighed in relief, and then in pleasure as Mayan took himself in hand, sending the sensation along the spell for Anton to enjoy. Would it count as coming without being touched, technically? he wondered, and was thrown out of his thoughts by a sharp pinch to his nipple.

Clapping a hand over his mouth was instinctive, even though the office was empty but for himself. The cry filtered through his fingers, and then he received a sharp tap against his lips. He understood; Mayan wanted to see him affected. He removed his own hand, scooted his chair back from the desk, and spread his legs wider for his Companion to enjoy the view. Mayan rewarded him by turning the gentle choke back on.

Just as Mayan started to stroke them tighter, Anton’s phone rang again. He whined, but reached for it.

“My Lord, Mayan asked me to report to you on the progress of the Lovers’ program. We-”

Anton shot a fierce glare at the camera, and doubled it at the amusement crossing their bond, but listened duly.

“-significant progress on the installation-”

The hand landed back on his thigh and fingernails pressed in, and he bit his lip, hard, in anticipation. He still barely managed to restrain a pitfully turned-on noise as Mayan raked nails up their thigh. Mayan didn’t get off on pain, but he was also trained to withstand torture, and he definitely didn’t mind such mild discomfort if it made Anton _squirm_ in pleasure.

“-a few hiccups synching the mainframe and the-”

His air suddenly cut off completely in a tight choke, and a second later, a slick-feeling finger slid inside him. His whole body shuddered a little in pleasure, and he thanked gods Mayan had kept him from making a sound, because he couldn’t have done it himself. A moment after that, he could breathe again, the pressure falling away from his throat as Mayan began to finger him. He struggled not to pant obviously into the phone.

“My Lord?”

He may not have been successful.

“Continue,” he said brusquely, hoping he was only being prompted and not asked for input.

“Yes, my Lord. The chief issue we’re encountering is the refresh rate. Our processor currently-”

Anton let out a silent sigh of relief and propped one foot on his desk so Mayan could see his hole. Mayan rewarded him with a second finger and the other hand back on their cocks. He bit off a whimper and tried to listen, without much success.

Mayan crooked his fingers and began rubbing gently at their prostates, and Anton’s eyes shot open. He sent a pleading look at the camera, and interrupted the tech with a not-unkind, “I have another call coming in. I trust your judgement, and keep Mayan posted.” It came out breathy, but at least not a full-on gasp. He hung up, and moaned as Mayan rubbed harder. “Please,” he begged, and pushed against his foot on the desk, his body instinctively trying to get the ghostly touch deeper and harder inside of him. It did absolutely nothing. “ _Please_ ,” he begged harder, and Mayan took pity, stroking and fingering more quickly. Then without warning Mayan’s hand lifted off of their cocks and he tried to yell in frustration, but any sound he would have made was cut off by tight pressure on his throat, and the stroking resumed. He nearly sobbed into their bond in gratitude, and then - the bond, the _bond_ , Mayan was widening it and he could feel not only Mayan’s hands through the spell but his physical pleasure in the bond, and his emotions, the love, the _love_ , the pride and happiness and gratitude that Anton had found a way to share this with him, and Anton gasped in a sudden, easy breath of much-needed oxygen and _came_.

He didn’t think he really blacked out completely, just shut his eyes while he came down from the extreme surge of adrenaline and orgasm, but a wet cloth softly bathing his face made him open them again. He was bonelessly sated, pleased and lazy and completely unwilling to do any further work that day. He smiled up at his Companion, conveying all of that through the bond, and Mayan smiled back, wiping his chest clean before picking him up.

“A nap, easifa?”

“If I wake up for anything at all, it will be dinner.”

“I will wake you,” Mayan promised, walking to their bedroom.

“Thank you,” he breathed into Mayan’s neck, _for everything_ , he knew Mayan understood, and then he was asleep.


	3. A little public risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So if Mayan and Anton are "rarely joined at the hip" because Mayan oversees the Dagger Throne's security enterprise, why was he at the Iconsgison for Rune and Lord Tower's meeting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Afreen - has many meanings, but mainly "beautiful beyond comparison"

"Do you think any other Arcana has had bugs planted in here, like you had me do?" Mayan mused aloud. There weren't; he'd checked. They both knew he'd never risk Anton's reputation. But that didn't stop Anton from tensing up a little around his cock.

He sighed his appreciation, lingering in the tight heat for a few seconds before pulling his hips back to thrust again. He admired the naked body laying on his own coat on the marble floor. "You look so lovely like this, my _afreen_. Like a live wire. You're so nervous about being caught, but you love the risk. Don't you?"

Anton moaned in response, probably louder than he'd intended. He clapped a hand over his mouth as it echoed a bit in the empty Iconsgison. Mayan thrust hard, and another moan filtered through Anton's fingers. 

Mayan leaned down, nearly laying atop Anton but for the forearms he braced on the floor over their heads to support his weight. "Not like that, Anton. If you need to muffle yourself, kiss me."

Anton immediately wrapped his arms around Mayan's neck and kissed him hard. Mayan kept fucking into the beautiful man beneath him, and pulled his mouth away after a minute, shifting his weight onto one forearm so he could slide a hand under Anton's head and press Anton's face against his neck. He widened the bond a little more, so Anton could drown in his love and his admiration and the truth of his words.

"I didn't lock the door."

Anton tensed harder than before and moaned into his neck, the bond full of his frantic desire and alarm. 

"Rune is always late to appointments," Mayan reminded Anton with a smile, holding off on his own growing pleasure. He wouldn't come before his talla. "But you'd best hurry anyway."

It wasn't actually left up to chance; AnaÏca hadn't texted yet to inform him of Rune's arrival.

Anton clung to him, trying to get friction, and Mayan took pity. He slid his hand out of Anton's hair to ruck his own shirt up so Anton could enjoy skin on skin, and then soothed his hand down Anton's bare back before pulling his pelvis flush against Mayan's stomach.

Anton ground up against his abs, panting and gasping into his neck and trying to keep time with his increased pace, and when he felt Anton about to lose control, he kissed him again, muting him as he shuddered and came against Mayan's stomach. Mayan let the blinding pleasure in the bond roll through him, and pressed his weight into Anton, moaning into their kiss as he let his own orgasm rush through him.

They panted together a few moments, and when Mayan sat up, he felt satisfaction flicker through him at the blissed out expression on Anton's face. He stroked a hand down Anton's side tenderly and glanced at his watch. "It's ten minutes past."

Anton tensed around his softening cock, and he groaned and stilled the body under him with a squeeze to Anton's hip, reaching into the pocket of the coat Anton was laying on to retrieve a butt plug and a handkerchief. Before he pulled his hand out, he felt one gentle buzz from his phone against his fingers: AnaÏca.

He slid out of Anton's ass and quickly inserted the plug, making Anton groan in appreciation, then cleaned lube and cum off his cock and their stomachs. He carefully folded the handkerchief into a square, the mess contained inside, and set it in Anton's hand.

"When you dress, that goes in the breast pocket of your suit," he commanded with a smirk. Anton sucked in a shaky breath and sat up, nodding. Mayan kissed him warmly. "I'll go guard the door and stall little Lord Sun if need be."

With one more parting kiss, Mayan straightened his shirt and pulled his coat from underneath Anton, smiling at the way Anton gasped as his ass made contact with the cold marble floor.

Mayan donned his coat on the way to the door. Closing it silently behind him, he settled into parade rest just as footsteps sounded down the corridor.


End file.
